Ripper: Blood Lust
by SMHBubbles
Summary: Jack the ripper was no ordinary man, he was a vampire. After the death of an old flame he vowed revenge on the killers. Hundreds of years later he finds her again, but will she accept her past, or do what others tell her she must?
1. Intro to Death

**_Disclaimer:_ The story that follows is completely and utterly owned by me. The only things I do not own is the general idea of Jack the Ripper. However, in this story the portrayal of Jack and all other characters are my own and are not to be used without my permission. The street mentioned here is fictional, any similarities to the street or any other aspects are purely coincidental. **

**Enjoy**

**PROLOGUE**

Before you continue I want you to forget every theory you have ever heard about Jack the Ripper. I want you to unfold this story without any previous knowledge of who – and what – he was. If all you knew was that he murdered countless prostitutes and was never caught, then that's perfect. That's all you really need to know at this point.

My name is Alex. I was born as Alexandra Kent, in a small town just outside of London, about a hundred years before Jack the Ripper. My mother and father died when I was very young, and I lived with my grandmother and younger sister until the day I died.

Let me back up for you a little, I'm sorry if I may have startled you.

My family was very poor, and we would be lucky to have a loaf of bread on the table each night as our dinner. Many times we went to bed trying to ignore the hunger pains, and trying not to cry in desperation.

In all sense, my life was going nowhere. If not for my family – what little I had left – I might have thrown myself into the Thames.

Some days I wonder how differently things would have turned out I had done just that. Truthfully it would probably have made little difference to the world you see every day, but it would have made all the difference to the world _I_ saw.

You see, shortly after my nineteenth birthday my dreary life was changed forever, and I do not say that to be boastful. No, the prince did not all madly in love with me nor did we discover gems in our yard. What happened to me was the worst possible thing I can think of.

Worse even, than death.

My grandfather had given me what few money we had so that I could go into the city to buy something for my sister, as her eleventh birthday was rapidly approaching. I had taken the money without a second thought. After all, what was a trip to town going to do?

How naïve I had been.

After I foolishly managed to get myself thoroughly lost in the darker part of the city, I realized how eerie it was. The sun had long ago set, and what little light there was came from the flickering glow of the gas lamps that lit the street every few feet.

I had been to London many times after dark, but it had never bothered me before. This time I felt chills run up and down my spine, with each step wishing I had taken a left instead of a right.

A movement behind me caused me to freeze under a street lamp. In reality this was not the best place to stand, seeing as whoever they were could clearly see me, while I was staring into darkness.

I wish I could tell you that when I was attacked I fought back, that I didn't give up without a fight.

I wish I could, but I can't.

I never saw it coming, and in the next ten seconds I was grabbed from behind and had my throat ripped out.

Literally.

The next thing I knew I was looking up at a tall, vacant looking building wondering when my life would turn around – for the better.

I wanted so badly for it to all be a dream, a hideous dream. But no, each word they spoke to me made it even more real, and the truth so much more horrifying.

I don't think it was the fact that I was dead that bothered me. No, I think it was that not only was I dead, but that I was among the living as well.

I am sad to say that I was now one of _them_, the undead that my grandmother had so often told me stories about. I had never believed her, nor listened as she rambled on about them. Perhaps it would have done me better to have paid her attention.

From that day forth I was no longer a poor, simple farm girl. I was now one of the fifty-four vampires that lived in the heart of London.

And with that immortality came a terrible burden, a burden we called _Blood Lust._

**ONE**

Night fell softly over the city of London, as residents prepared to retire to their beds, turning off their gas lamps and changing out of their clothes.

True, in the nicer parts of the city people slept. But there was none among them that did not wonder about the murders that now haunted their city.

In the seedier side of London, pubs were open late, serving up liquor to any who entered the door. Drunks laughed gaily, swinging their mugs above their heads in a lively manner. A few sat along in the corners, reading the evening paper. The title declared that yet another young detective sought to apprehend the infamous Jack the Ripper, who was feared by all in this part of town.

Looking at this particular pub you wouldn't have thought that someone had been killed only a few streets away the previous day. In fact, once the initial shock of the third (or was it fourth?) murder wore down, each subsequent one meant little to them.

Back in the richer side of town there was a street by the name of Harding, and on this street there was a house. Not just any house though, the monstrosity spanned the entire block, surrounding all sides with cold brick and windows that were always shuttered. This house had often caused whispered discussions at social gatherings, for no one had ever seen a soul enter in or out of the mansion. But they knew it was occupied by the lights that were on occasionally. In spite of all the mystery, none suspected that Jack the Ripper could be living inside those very walls. After all, there was no chance that such a murder could be residing near the rich, and so they felt safe.

A young woman peered out a window on the topmost floor of the building, watching the few who still roamed at this time of night. Her name was Alex, she was nineteen.

She had been nineteen for one hundred years.

Her black hair, wavy and loose, was a shocking contrast to her pale skin. Her eyes, a deep blue, were the most expressive part of her. To any who glanced her way it would appear that she was tired and needed rest.

But she had been tired for so many long years.

It was not fatigue that caused her weariness; it was the emptiness of her life.

She stood, pulling her black silk robe around her tightly, trying in vain to turn away the chills she was feeling. It was the same feeling she had gotten the previous night when the woman had been murdered. It was the same feeling she got every night since the chain killing had started.

Barefooted, she stepped down the stairs quietly. Glancing at a small clock on the wall, she noticed how early it was now. The sun would rise in only two hours. She tried to mentally count the residents she had seen leave the house, and tried to determine which of them had not returned. They had a strict curfew here in the House of Grenger, so as not to lose any souls to the sunlight that they all feared.

Forty-five; that was how many vampires resided here now. Since the previous leader of the house had been slain eighty years earlier, they had steadily lost a few of their own each year. Now that Alex was one of the co-leaders, she had placed rules upon the house in a desperate attempt to prevent any more casualties.

They hadn't lost anyone in twenty years.

She carefully lifted the lid of the icebox and scanned the contents. It was filled to the top with milk bottles, but they were filled with blood.

Each was marked with a color on the lid. The red ones – which took up the majority of the space – were human blood. The blue ones were filled with animal blood. These were hers.

When she had been appointed the next leader by Harold – the previous ruler – there had been an enormous outburst among a few of the residents. They all liked Alex just fine, but it was common knowledge that her customs were varied from theirs.

Since her turning she had refused to consume any human blood, instead she received shipments of animal blood from a butcher across town.

But soon enough everyone eased into the acceptance that she was now in charge of their safety.

Since Harold's rule the vampires of London had no need to kill for blood. One of their own worked a night shift at the local hospital. Shortly after a patient died she would harvest the blood and send it to them. Gathered, it was not the freshest method, but it did grant them safety, and it prevented anymore souls from joining them.

She leaned against the marble counter and sipped slowly from her glass. She was still trying to determine if everyone in the house had returned when another entered the kitchen.

She didn't look up as the figure moved silently over to the icebox. She knew everyone by their footsteps.

"Hello John," she said quietly.

He jumped a little, surprised to see her sitting there so silently. "Alex, I didn't know anyone would be in here,"

She smiled, "It's perfectly all right."

He lifted out a glass – one of her's, "May I—?"

She was startled at this question. Never before had anyone else shown any signs of wanting to switch to her drink.

She nodded slowly, "By all means, please."

He popped off the lid and leaned against the ice chest, eyeing her as he drank.

"How long have you been—" she started.

"Three weeks," he seemed nervous, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I didn't want you to be disappointed if, you know, it didn't work out."

"No, it's fine. It's just; no one has ever wanted to try it before. Why did you?"

He traced the lip of the glass with a finger, brow furrowed, "I don't want to be a monster anymore."

She set her glass on the counter and walked over to him, placing an arm around his shoulder she whispered, "You're not a monster John. This is just who you are, who _we_ are."

He shrugged her off and walked across the room, looking at the tightly closed shutters, "Then why do I feel like one?"

Alex could not answer this question. She had taken an immediate liking to John ever since he became one of them several years ago. She had never seen someone who had so easily taken in the fact that they were no longer living. Most newborns would scream and deny it all, but he had only nodded and accepted. He wasn't like the others, not at all.

He had been twenty-four when he was turned ten years ago. He had left behind his wife and son, both who had no idea why he had vanished. Alex knew that of all the things he missed most in this world, they could never add up to the pain of leaving your loved ones to survive on their own. She had felt this way when she had left her own family, however small and broken it may have been.

Another pair of footsteps entered the kitchen, this time they carried a gas lamp with them.

The visitor – a redheaded girl named Diana – seemed surprised to see both of them up, but smiled all the same. She had been here longer than Alex, and was only three years older when she had died. Her short hair and green eyes often turned newcomers away from getting to know her. Alex liked Diana a lot; she had been one of the first few people to make her feel truly welcome in the house.

Diana also retrieved a bottle for herself. "It seems like everyone is thirsty tonight aren't they?" she eyed Alex, also knowing that something felt off.

As she poured the blood into a clean glass she casually asked, "I wonder, where could Jack be so late at night?"

Alex sighed, of course, of all the vampires that decided to rebel against her rules it was Jack. She couldn't really blame him, as co-leader he wasn't entitled to obey any of her demands, but she would have hoped he wouldn't be stupid enough to be out this late.

Alex sipped her drink and frowned, "Yes, I wonder."

Ж

A dark, solitary figure made their way down the cobbled side street, the sound their boots made echoing off the alley walls. A rat scurried out in front of him and he kicked it away.

'Filthy creatures,' he thought disgustedly.

He turned sharply around the corner and entered the local bar. It was nearing closing time, but there were still a few who managed to stick around as long as possible, begging for a free drink or two.

He sat on the closest stool to the door, away from everyone else. He didn't have to wait long before a scantily dressed woman took the seat beside him.

"Care to buy me a drink, stranger?"

He gave a little smile, "It would be my pleasure."

He ordered her a drink and tried his best to look pleased with her company. He couldn't help looking at her and thinking of how low she had sunk to earn a living. Each time she touched his arm he had to prevent himself from shuddering. After all, he was a man of stature; he shouldn't be caught for a second in a place like this, let alone with a woman like her.

A few moments later she was following him down the alley again, thoroughly drunk and disoriented. She didn't seem to find it strange when they stopped near a garbage can and a cat's carcass.

She smiled a crooked smile, and the man cringed to see her rotting teeth, but he forced himself to smile back.

When she had turned for a brief moment to gather their location, he swiftly placed his hands around her neck and twisted it sharply to the right, breaking it and causing her to slump over, paralyzed.

He didn't try to catch her body as it fell to the ground, he didn't have time for that. Besides, she wasn't deserving of any dignity.

He leaned over her and nearly gagged on the rotting stench of her perfume. He could feel her quiver slightly under his cold touch and whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry love; his will only hurt for a second."

His teeth ripped easily through her skin, slicing her jugular vein. She gasped briefly before turning silent and limp.

He fed quickly, knowing he would not have enough time to drain her completely. When he had finished he pulled a small, silver stake from his cloak pocket.

He thrust it into her stomach, watching grimly as the flesh around it smoldered and hissed. After a few moments he pulled it out and placed it alongside her.

He pulled out a scalpel he had stolen from one of his previous victims (a high end doctor who had snooped around too much) and quickly finished the job. He would have to remove all signs of puncture, or else someone would get suspicious.

As he made his way quickly down the street he tossed his collection to a couple of dogs that were chained in a nearby yard. The police would never be able to trace it.

As for the stake, he would wash it later. It was made especially for him, with a cork grip so that the silver would not touch his skin. He couldn't afford to leave it behind.

As calmly as he had exited, he slipped silently through the mansion's front door.

Just as the sun started to rise over the city.

**so...I know that must have seemed very odd, but I would very much like to hear what other people think. **


	2. All That's Silver

**Disclaimer: Same as before. **

**Reminder: This is only a draft, several parts will eventually be gone over and fleshed out a bit more.**

* * *

TWO

He walked slowly towards the stairs, trying not to wake any who had just retired as the sun rose. But as he stepped onto the first flight he heard someone speak to him.

"Out late again I see,"

He turned and stepped down, watching Alex carefully. She had her arms folded around her chest, and did not seem very happy.

He smiled at her, "Alex, I hope I didn't disturb you."

"I was already awake, waiting for you to finally come back." She took a few steps toward him, staring him down with her icy glare, "It seems that you don't care for any of the rules I have set down for the house. Are you too good for them Jack? Do you think you're better than the rest of us?"

He started to speak but she hushed him with her index finger, "Oh yes, that's right. You do think so don't you? After all, that's why you insist on killing innocent women off the streets, instead of drinking the blood we have right here."

"Those women are _not_ innocent. I am doing the world a favor by riding it of those scum," he hissed angrily.

Her expression did not falter at his tone, "Those _scum_, Jack, I consider them a lot more decent than you."

He walked up to her quickly and stared down right at her. Alex couldn't help but stare right into his eyes, those hideous black eyes. She supposed that's what happened when your soul was as far gone as Jack's, you lose all the life in you. Those soulless eyes of his were matched only by his hair, black as could be and fringed around his face. She guessed that at one time he had looked very dignified, such as when he been born into this house ninety years ago.

She had still been new herself, ten years was nothing for experience. She had been intrigued by Jack's social background, and was always becoming caught up in his stare. Those eyes, they caught you up and never let go, like a tiger stalking its prey.

But now he was the other leader of this house, supposedly on equal ground with her. But he took this status as high as it would go, having been used to the special treatment of his birthright. He never let any of them forget that Harold had chosen him over some of the elders in the house. Alex, though new herself when chosen, had also been surprised. She didn't know what Harold had seen in Jack. Maybe it was his spirit, but all Alex ever really saw was his attitude, and it was very nasty for the most part.

Harold had confided in her that if anything were to happen to him he wanted her to take his place. He had not had a co-leader for thirty years, and he felt that something would happen to him. He told her that she was different than the rest, and that she could make this never ending life a better one for his people. She had accepted, never thinking that anything could happen to Harold. To her, he was like an idol, something that could never be touched.

How wrong she turned out to be.

Jack brushed away a strand of hair from her face, "Relax Alex, I've been careful. I won't slip up."

"And what if you do?" she asked coldly, "You'll risk exposing all of us. They may not have caught you yet, but if they find anything—people aren't as stupid as you think Jack, someone would suspect."

"Well we'll just worry about that when the time comes." He kissed her forehead softly, "I'm going to bed, I hope you will do the same. You must be exhausted."

Alex watched silently as he climbed the stairs. He had never hidden from anyone how he felt about her, but she only wished he cared enough to do as she asked.

She shook her head and turned down the hall. She wasn't ready just yet.

She sat in the study's armchair for only two hours before the newsboy could be heard up and down the street. Unable to go outside, she hovered near the door and listened. Ever since she had been turned her senses had heightened, and he could be heard as clearly as if he were standing right beside her.

"_Killer strikes again! The mysterious Jack the Ripper kills another early this mornin'!"_

Alex took a shaky breath and closed her eyes. She slowly slid to the floor with her back against the door, so that she could shut out the world entirely.

Ж

The following week Alex thought of a way to help John overcome his depression. She knew she could never make him stop hating vampires in their entirety, but it was the least she could do to provide him with a marginal source of comfort.

Just after night had fallen Alex found John in the sitting room, staring blankly at the fire. It was not a practical thing; the cold they felt would never be suppressed by any flame, but in order to keep up a subtle appearance, it was helpful to have smoke drifting from their chimney, especially during the harshness of winter.

He looked up briefly as she closed the double doors behind her. His gaze returned to the fire, ignoring her. Alex sighed softly. It was times like these when she remembered how she had felt her first few years. But ten had passed for John, and she feared he would never come to accept it as his new life. True, he accepted the fact that he was undead, but the he refused to fall into a steady pattern of new life. For him this was an interruption of a real life, nothing more.

She perched herself on the armrest and watched the fire also, "How are you feeling?"

He scoffed, "I thought we had no feelings,"

She frowned and looked down at him, "That isn't true, because if it were you wouldn't be so miserable."

"I have every right to be." his eyes stared coldly at the orange flicker that danced over the hearth.

"Yes, you do." She sighed again, "I don't think of this as a blessing either, but fate meant for this to happen to us, and we can at least make the best of it."

He cast Alex a brief look before standing to cross the room. After several minutes he spoke again, "Fifteen, my son would be fifteen now," he said silently, not directing to anyone in particular, much less Alex, "He wouldn't even know me."

Alex couldn't imagine what it would be like to leave a child, one who had been so young at your disappearance. After she had turned she had never spoken to her family again. For all her knowledge they assumed her dead – and in a way they were right.

She didn't think there would be a proper time to bring up her idea, so she threw it out now, "Would you like to see them? To say goodbye?"

He turned sharply, arms crossed. He narrowed his eyes and regarded her like a liar, "I thought that was forbidden,"

She nodded, "Well yes, it is. But if you remember, I am a regent of this house, and if I say you can go then by all means, go."

He blinked, "You're serious?"

She smiled, standing herself, "I'll go with you if you'd like."

He gave a quick nod, "I—I'd like that, very much."

Alex headed for the door, "Well then, grab your coat and I'll meet you by the front hall in ten minutes"

Ж

They both had heavy jackets on, with equally heavy pants and boots. Alex herself wore riding breeches, refusing to wear the uncomfortable dresses of English women unless it was necessary. She also wore black riding boots and a long black coat. John dressed himself in tailored pants and a coat similar to hers. If any should take notice of them, they would appear only as civilized human beings merely out for an evening stroll.

The moon tonight was half concealed by dark storm clouds. There was a good chance it would rain before they would return home. Not that it mattered much, they weren't really at risk for disease.

They walked together wordlessly, Alex letting John lead the way. Even though they were several blocks away, she already noticed that his steps were lighter, and his face seemed more cheerful, though he wasn't up to mustering a smile.

He stopped shortly outside a white picket gate, staring silently at the house before him.

Alex looked at John and saw how much it hurt him to see it again. But she knew he wouldn't be happy unless the people he had cared about knew why he had left.

When they stepped up to the front door he turned to speak to her.

She cut him off, "I'll just—wait out here." She smiled weakly. She may be over a hundred years old, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what would happen if she entered that house.

She leaned against the side and listened carefully to the activity within. She heard John's knock echo through the house, someone yelling "I've got it!", and the sound of footsteps coming to the door.

When it opened she could see the light scatter across the flagstones, although she could not see inside.

John was unable to speak, looking at the curious young man that was his son. How nerve-racking it was to come home one day and be hit with the face of your child, who had aged ten years since.

The fifteen year old boy stared suspiciously at the stranger on his doorstep. He wouldn't have recognized him, because he wasn't expecting his father to ever come home. It had been so long, the memory of what his father had looked like was slowly starting to disappear.

John was at a loss for words, finding his mouth dry and unable to speak.

"Is there something I can do for you, sir?" he asked irritably.

John cleared his throat, "I was wondering if your mother was at home, I would like to speak to her."

For a second John thought his son wasn't going to respond, but after a few moments he nodded abruptly and stepped back inside, calling out through the house for his mother.

A kindly looking lady stepped into the hall, drying her hands on a towel.

"Mathew, did you ask who it was?"

She turned and saw the stranger at her door and her hands froze. She stared, dumbfounded at the figure of her late husband. The day had finally come when she had gone mad from depression.

She screamed shrilly and dropped to the floor in a near faint. Mathew gave a shout and ran to help his mother. When John stepped quickly inside the boy brandished an umbrella at him threateningly.

"_Stay away!_" he shouted, "_The police will come, stay away from my mother!"_

John tried to explain to the boy who he was, but every time he tried to get a sentence out he was poked sharply with the end of the umbrella.

Finally, John managed to grab hold of the cover and shouted, "_Mathew I'm your father!"_

The boy paused, staring at the man. His eyes fell to the mantle, which stood behind the stranger. He saw the long ago sketch of his father and mother, before he was born. He could see that this man was indeed the one in the picture. But that wasn't what frightened him, it was the fact that this man who claimed to be his own flesh and blood had not aged a day since the sketch had been drawn.

Mathew stood slowly, and for a moment John thought that his son believed him, but when Mathew suddenly pulled out a butcher knife from the hall drawer he was proved wrong.

Alex was still standing outside when she heard the vase break, and the shouts that came from within.

"Oh dear god," she whispered to herself as she darted inside.

She saw John, lying on the floor and clutching a bloody leg. She could see the boy raising the knife again and grabbed his arm quickly, thrusting it back and away from John.

The boy looked surprised to see this strange woman forcing him up against the wall, one who seemed just as dark and eerie as his "father".

"Don't. Move." She hissed as she let him fall to the floor. Kneeling by John she quickly examined the wound. It wasn't heeling as it should have by now, and this worried her.

She turned to the boy, "What kind of blade is that?" she demanded.

He blinked, "What?"

"_The blade! What kind of metal?"_ she was growing steadily more angry at the boy.

"S-silver," he stuttered, taken aback by her shouts.

She cursed and struggled to help John up, "We have to get you back, _now_,"

She gave a passing glance at the boy before helping John limp out the door. Even with her help he was finding it difficult to stay focused long enough. He felt his vision start to blur and stumbled upon a stone.

She hoisted him up again, "come on John, stay with me. I need you, don't' you dare let go, not now. Not today." She muttered in his ear, along with countless other things, most of which meant nothing.

She was a block away when she felt him collapse beneath her. She fought to keep him standing but it wasn't enough. He lay on the ground, gasping for air and clutching his bleeding leg.

For a moment Alex didn't know what to do. She had to choose between leaving him here and getting help (risking a neighbor seeing) or staying with him and hoped he didn't die.

She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood, but she didn't notice. She knelt beside him once again. The last thing John heard before he slipped away was, "I'll be right back, I promise—"


	3. Too Much Information

THREE

John wearily opened his eyes to see the maple covering of his four poster bed. His eyes fell to the side, past the silk curtains (pulled back now by gold tassels) and saw Alex, sitting in a chair right beside him.

She smiled, "Hey, you had us a scared for a while. How are you feeling?"

He tried to move his leg but felt sharp bolts of pain shoot up it. He groaned and relaxed his muscles, staring off into space.

She frowned, "John?" she reached out and touched his hand gently, "John what is it?"

"He attacked me," he whispered, more to himself than to Alex, "My own son—"

Alex sighed and stroked his hand gently, "If there's anyone to blame, it's me. I shouldn't have convinced you to go there,"

He looked at her intently, "No, I'm glad you did. I needed to see them, one last time," his face fell sadly, "even if they didn't know it was me."

He glanced down at the bed sheets, "What happened? Shouldn't I be—?"

"Dead?" she laughed in spite of the situation, "The silver didn't penetrate deep enough to harm you severely, but if it had gone through your chest…" she trailed off, not needing to tell him what would have happened.

"You saved me, didn't you?"

She paused, caught up in the steady watch of his deep brown eyes. She noticed then how his hair (the rich color of hazelnut) hung loosely in his face now, giving him the appearance of being much younger than twenty four.

"It's my duty John, you know that. I have to protect the people in this house. That's what I'm here for," she smiled and stood, going to the dresser to fetch a vial for him to drink from. She solemnly handed it to him and he hesitated before taking it.

"It's mine, if that's what you're wondering," she said in a low voice.

He smiled and took a deep drink. Placing the vial on the nightstand he glanced over at her, "Jack wouldn't like that. He thinks your drink is weak."

"I know, I know," she said almost wishfully, "But I can't force you to drink human blood if you don't want to."

He chuckled, "Well I definitely don't want to." His face became serious, "Seriously Alex, thank you. If it wasn't for you I'd be _gone_." He put special emphasis on the word—_gone_. It was true, she knew it. If she hadn't been there he'd either have been stabbed to death or eaten alive when the sun rose.

_But if I hadn't been there, neither would he._

She shook the thought from her mind, the same guilty thought that had been nagging at her since she had bandaged him up hours ago.

"Does Jack know?" he asked quietly.

She sighed heavily, "Yes, unfortunately. He's furious with me for bending the rules just so you could have 'a teary reunion,' his words not mine." She shrugged, "but he'll just have to accept that I have just as much power around here as he has."

_Even if he is a pureblood._

She didn't share this last thought with John. He had only been a vampire for ten years, not long enough to know about the different breeds of their kind, and the status that came with it. He didn't need to know right now, not until the time was right.

Jack was a pureblood, born as a vampire. He had been born of Harold and Greta, the two previous regents. Alex had been a vampire for twenty years when Jack had been born. She had still been too young to understand the significance of the pureblood line.

At least one regent was to be a pureblood; that was the law of the vampires. It was tradition for the two reigning regents to bear a child, perhaps more. Alex could remember watching as Jack grew up, two years for every ten mortal ones until he reached twenty-six. After that he would cease to age entirely.

His mother had died thirty years after his birth, from drinking blood of a poisoned woman. After his father was killed he was left as the next regent, along with Alex.

Alex had been chosen to be regent for very special reasons. Reasons she did not readily give out.

John saw her pondering absently and decided to inquire about this, "Alex?"

She snapped back to reality and looked at him, "Do you need something?" she asked kindly, although she was a little irritated at being jostled from her thoughts.

"Can I ask you something?"

She nodded slowly, wondering what on earth he could want to know.

He paused for a second before asking softly, "How did you become regent?"

She only stared at him for the longest time, thoughts racing for an answer she could give him. Why had he asked this? Why now of all times? It couldn't have been _that_ obvious she was thinking about it.

She bit her lip before answering carefully, "Harold and Greta – the regents before me – trusted me, that's all."

He furrowed his brow, "So Harold gave it to you, a regular run of the mill vampire, and not to his son first?"

Alex started, "What?"

He laughed softly, "What do you think I did all those times in the library? I know enough about what happened to get the general idea."

"What do you know?" she was curious to see just how vast his information was.

He shrugged, "Only that Jack was Harold and Greta's son, and that they had another one as well," he eyed her slyly.

She froze, no one in this house under fifty years of age knew about Donavan.

She swallowed and leaned in closer to him, "If you mention _anything_ to _anyone_ in this house, I will personally stake you."

She rose and exited the room, leaving a slightly baffled John staring after her.

Ж

Alex spent the rest of the day carefully ripping pages from library books. It had never occurred to her that the information she wanted hidden could be so easily accessed.

She knew she couldn't throw them away, lest a mortal decided to dig through the trash.

So she placed them – folded neatly – in the pages of a book no one would touch, titled _Science in Motion._ Newborns may be interested in the past history of the clan, but she could rest easy knowing the pages were somewhere so unappealing.

The door opened quickly and she jumped a little at being intruded upon. She blinked when she saw it was John. He had a crutch under his arm and limped slowly over to her. She cursed their natural ability to heal so quickly, but smiled.

"Feeling better?"

He frowned, "I should be asking you. You really went off on me earlier."

She turned and discretely slipped the book back in its place, staling. "Well John, you did upset me."

"I know, and I apologize. I should have known better than to mention it to you."

"No, you didn't know better. That's just it. You're a newborn, you can't be blamed."

He sighed, "When does the title of 'newborn' diminish?"

She smiled to herself as she rearranged some of the books, "When you're not the newest one here."

He rolled his eyes and sat in an armchair, "With you in charge I'll be a newborn until I'm a hundred."

She laughed softly but didn't respond. Inside she was deeply troubled by his comment. It could be taken either way, as an insult or a compliment. She didn't know which one to choose.

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "Well, I don't think I'm _that _good."

He frowned, "What do you mean?"

She brushed a cloak of dust off an old volume, "Well if I had things my way, there wouldn't be anymore newborns. I don't consider what we are a blessing, even if Jack thinks of it that way."

"That _is_ what he tells us."

She turned around quickly, almost violently, "Jack is a pureblood, he knows nothing of the lives we once lived. He doesn't miss anything; he doesn't remember things like the sun. He has no right to tell us that our fate is a good thing."

He watched her as she continued to tidy up, not having anything to answer to something like that. He had had no idea that Alex felt so strongly about the subject. Actually, he had never heard her mention anything about it. From the moment he had entered this house he had been told that he was blessed to be immortalized as a vampire. He had never thought of it as a curse, aside from when he thoughts about his previous life.

Alex finished with her meaningless tasks and smiled at him, moving to pass him to the exit. Surprisingly, he stopped her by grabbing her arm gently.

"Alex," he asked softly and she looked up, keeping a solemn face on, "Please don't blame yourself for what happened."

She smiled as he let go of her arm, "I don't," she lied.

He smiled back, taking in her words as the truth. It hurt her to see that he trusted her so much, and here she was lying.

_It isn't a big lie though, just a little white one to make him feel better._

She told herself these things, although they didn't make her feel any better about the situation.

She brushed past him gently, "I need to go—check something in the kitchen."

_Another lie, you're on a roll._

She chose this time to ignore the voice and indeed headed to the kitchen, almost as if to prove her own subconscious wrong.

She sighed and picked up a glass and a rag, absently polishing the rim. A speck of blood was stained on, and she rubbed the spot over and over. But no matter how hard she rubbed, the spot stayed on, as if mocking her.

Frustrated, she gave a scream and hurled the glass against the wall, watching as it shattered into pieces.

Crying now, she bent down and carefully picked up the pieces. She fought to control herself as she threw away the pieces and rubbed away the scratch on the wall.

She didn't know she was being watched until she turned around to see Jack eyeing her with one brow raised.

She gave a startled gasp and stopped, "Jack,"

He watched her carefully, "Everything alright?"

She knew lying to him was the last thing she felt like doing right now, so she replied curtly, "Aside from the fact that John now knows all about you and Donavan?"

Jack frowned, "How could he?"

"Well I don't know Jack, whose idea was it to put all that information in the library?" she said sarcastically.

"Ah," he said, not knowing how else to respond, "That could be a problem. How much does he know?"

"Enough." She answered shortly.

The door bell rang, echoing through the now quiet house. Most of the residents had already departed for the evening.

"I'll be getting that, shall I?" she brushed past him towards the door, hearing as he climbed the stairs to the second story.

_I'm surprised he hasn't already headed out for the evening._

She opened the door with no thought whatsoever to who would be on the doorstep. But when she saw the teen standing there, she froze.

Mathew stared back at her; as if unbelieving that he had found her. Alex too stared back, trying to focus on the fact that John's son was standing five feet away from her.

She closed the door behind her and stepped onto the stoop. "What are you doing here?" she hissed.

He blinked, and after a moment answered, "I know."

She wasn't in the mood, "I suppose you do. Is there anything I can _help_ you with? How did you find us anyway?"

He shrugged, "I know a guy." He looked her over, something that made Alex very uneasy, "So—you're one of them too?"

"Excuse me?"

He sighed and look quickly to the streets, making sure no one was there, "You know – a vampire."

Every nerve in her body froze as he stated this so casually, as if it wasn't unnatural.

He chuckled a little, "Yeah, I'm not stupid miss. I got a pretty good look at his teeth."

She regained herself quickly, "Yes, I imagine you would, seeing how he was screaming in pain. You know – when you stabbed him." She said coldly.

Mathew shuffled his feet, "Look, I was in shock ok? I didn't really expect my father to show up on my doorstep in the middle of the night."

"Well I apologize, but daylight wasn't exactly convenient." She said in the same tone as before.

"Is he—alright?" he asked timidly, most likely the reason he had come in the first place.

"He'll be fine, now is there anything else?" she was eager to get rid of him.

"Can I speak to him?"

"_Absolutely not!"_ she shouted sharply, not caring now if anyone heard her. All she wanted was to be rid of this pest before Jack decided to head out. She didn't feel like explaining this to Jack, it was bad enough she had to lie about how John had injured himself in the first place (slipping and falling on a silver post).

He recoiled from her quickly, losing his balance on a step and stumbling a bit.

She was breathing heavily when the door opened.

Terrified that she had been caught, she whirled around to see John standing there, looking awfully confused.

He looked from his son to Alex and back again.

"Mathew?" he asked, almost in disbelief that his son was standing on the doorstep to his home, without a weapon.

"Hello father," he answered hoarsely.

"John—" Alex started

He hushed her and started out the door on his crutch, never taking his eyes off of Mathew.

"John you really shouldn't be—"

He turned his head and looked at her with those eyes of his, and she sighed, "Alright, ten minutes, that's it."

She turned and hurried into the house, only to see Jack grabbing his coat.

Her mind raced for a way to stall him as he looked up and gave her a quick smile.

She rushed towards him and stopped him, placing a hand on his arm, "Jack, why do you have to go out tonight? Stay here, with me." She looked up at him innocently.

He paused midway through pulling his coat on and eyed her, "What's gotten into you?" he asked suspiciously.

She didn't care, as long as she stalled him long enough for Mathew to leave. She ran a finder down his arm gently, "It's just that, if you leave I'll be all by myself in this big, empty house."

"John's here," he answered, she could have sworn there was a bit of hostility in his voice.

She shrugged, "I'd much rather you stay here,"

He paused for a moment, and she watched his black eyes for any hint of doubt, but they only stared back at her as they always did.

He smiled and slid off his coat, "Alright then, since you insist."

She smiled back, relieved that she had detoured him from the front door, and thus the little reunion that was taking place outside.

Ж

Alex was sitting by the fire when John entered the library an hour later. She looked up momentarily when he sat beside her on the couch. For a moment he didn't say anything, only watching the fire's flames flicker softly. Alex half-hoped that he wouldn't say thank you, she didn't think she could take that kind of gratitude.

He started to speak but she shushed him, "Don't say anything." Her eyes never left the orange-red glow of the fire, and the reflections it cast onto the marble hearth.

Surprisingly, he didn't arguer with her. What was even more surprising was when he gently brushed a piece of hair behind her ear.

She started a little at the contact and looked at him, puzzled. He only smiled and turned back to the fire, an arm resting on the backrest behind her.

She didn't ask him to explain himself, and for some reason, when she looked back as John, she smiled in spite of herself.


	4. Visitor

FOUR

A week went by, and the house was abuzz with excitement for the upcoming gala, a gathering of vampires from all around the world.

It took place once every ten years, in various locations. Usually it was hosted by the _Eternus Rector_, the Latin term for "eternal leader."

Each country had their own leader, but there was one – the Eternus Rector – who oversaw every vampire in the world. This duty changed either when the current leader was deceased, or there was a public outcry for change (which rarely occurred).

This year, however, the new Eternus Rector was being decided (after the previous one had been overtaken by a piece of garlic bread), and Jack had kindly offered to host the gala in the ballroom of a hotel not far from the house.

Everyone in the house suspected that Jack would become the next Eternus Rector, even Jack himself. But no one dared to voice this opinion out loud, for fear of causing uproar. Alex actually thought this herself, and it made her slightly uneasy to think of Jack overseeing the entire world like that.

So now preparations were being made, and Alex was frantic with last minute details. The event was only three days away and she still had so much more planning to do.

Some of which, did not involve the party at all.

For the past two months Alex and nine others of the house had been planning to leave the house entirely. They were all sick of Jack, and wanted to flee the house before he became even more powerful.

The plan was to leave during the gala. With hundreds of other vampires, it would be easy to slip out ten of them, go back to the house, grab their things, and flee. They had decided on going to Spain, and would need to leave as early as possible, for they needed to get as far away as they could before daybreak. Alex had contacts along the way that would house them during daylight, but she was still worried about what would happen to them if they were found.

She wondered if Jack would go looking for her once he discovered her missing. She hoped he wouldn't, but as one of the other escapees pointed out, it was very unlikely that she would get that wish.

At the last minute John had joined them, making their party the ten they now had. He was eager to leave, even though he hadn't been here very long.

Alex also worried about the current murder that was sweeping through London. Over and over she wanted to deny it was Jack, but she knew it was him. She could see it in his eyes, smell it on his breath, and taste it in his kisses.

She shuddered and filed away another box of invitations that had been answered with an R.S.V.P. she sighed and brushed away hair that was pasted to her forehead. It was unusually warm in the library, but it was the one place she knew she would not be disturbed.

Glancing up at the wall she discovered that daylight would be approaching shortly. Standing up and stretching her achy muscles, she took another look around the room. It seemed so strange to think that in three days, they would be leaving this place forever.

"Busy?"

The voice startled her and she jumped, sending papers flying to the floor. She caught her breath and glared at John as she picked them back up.

"Yes, very." She said sharply, indicating that she shouldn't be disturbed.

John knelt down and collected a stack of the fallen papers, placing them back upon the desk where they had been sitting; waiting for Alex to look over them.

She muttered her thanks and looked back to her work.

John hesitated a moment before turning around and quietly slipping out of the room. He would tell her later.

As he opened the door however, Diana burst through and ran over to Alex, gripping the edge of the desk to stop herself from falling.

Alex recoiled away from Diana's flushed face. She started to speak quickly, as that Alex couldn't make out a word the poor girl uttered.

Alex grabbed both her shoulders and forced Diana to look at her, "Diana, calm down. What is it?"

"D-_Donavan_!" was all Diana could utter.

Alex blinked, assuming that she had heard her wrong, "What did you say?"

Diana took a moment to breathe deeply; John eyed them both curiously from the door. When she had caught her breath she said as calmly as she could, "Donavan is back."

Alex didn't move for a second, but when she did she stood quickly and pushed past Diana, rushing out the door. John could hear her footsteps echo off the walls, and then as they stopped suddenly.

Alex turned the corner and saw Donavan in the hallway.

The now teen boy looked over at her and smiled the same eerie smile that Alex had first noticed about Jack. Like his older brother, Donavan had black hair and eyes, a mark of a pureblood. He would be about sixteen now, he had only been eight when he had left to study in Scotland.

"Hello Alex," he said with a smile.

She took a deep breath and smiled, "Donavan. It's good to see you; it's been a long time."

"Yes, too long." He looked around him carefully, taking in the house, "I see you haven't changed anything since I've been gone."

She continued to smile, although it was becoming increasingly harder, "Not at all." She paused and then asked, "What are you doing back so early, if you don't mind me asking."

He shrugged, "Why would I mind? You're a leader of this house, you could force the information out of me if you really wanted to." He chuckled, "I came back for the gala, I'm interested in seeing who will be the next Eternus Rector will be, aren't you?" he gave her a look that told her he knew perfectly well that it would be Jack.

"We can only wait and see,"

He hung his coat on the rack and stepped closer towards her, "How are you Alex?"

She started, "What?" she asked stupidly.

He smiled sympathetically at her, "I imagine you aren't used to hearing someone else ask _you_ that. Really though, how have you been?"

She bit her cheek momentarily, "Fine,"

"Just fine?"

She frowned, "I don't have anything to feel better about Donavan."

He nodded, "Of course not."

She was reminded each time she saw him how mature he acted. When Jack had been his age he had behaved like a normal teenage boy. But Donavan acted and talked much older than even Alex.

"Do you have an escort for the party yet?" he asked casually.

She forced herself to smile, "I'm going with Jack, you know that. It's—custom."

He smiled, "Please dear, don't act as if custom has anything to do with it." He walked on past her into the kitchen.

Taken aback, she followed him. Watching him examine the top of the ice chest she panicked, not wanting him to open it and ask questions.

"What did you mean by that?"

He paused midway to grasping the handle and turned to her, "Mean by what?"

"Your most recent comment." She said dryly, all etiquette lost now that he had been here for more than ten minutes.

He laughed, "Oh that. Don't ask as if you don't know, everyone else does." She didn't answer and he sighed, "Everyone knows it's a tradition for the two leaders to become…_romantically_ involved. After all, we wouldn't have purebloods then would we?"

Alex was so offended by this that she couldn't find the strength to speak. Yes, it may be true that she and Jack had been involved previously, but it wasn't as if it was serious or committed.

She was still speechless as he brushed by her and collected his luggage, "I'll just show myself to my room, shall I?"

After she had heard him climb the stairs she slumped down into the nearest chair and rubbed her throbbing temples.

John entered the room and saw her, glancing up at the staircase he walked over and pulled up a chair beside her.

"That was him, wasn't it?"

"What do you think?" she snapped back at him.

He wasn't offended by her curtness, "What did he say?"

She was shaking, yet John was afraid to see if she was crying. She was a strong person, and right now she could easily be offended by someone suggesting she was "weak."

She didn't look at him, but she managed to say, "Nothing, nothing at all."

Alex rose quickly, upsetting the table so that it rocked a bit as she left the kitchen almost as quickly as Donavan had.

She didn't go down the hall though, but out into the street.

John stood and went to the shuttered window. Opening it slightly, he was startled to see her sitting on the sidewalk.

And she was indeed crying.

* * *

John found Diana finishing up where Alex had left off. He didn't know the young woman that well, and he knew she wasn't a part of their escape plan, but he needed to find out what was going on.

He knew what Donavan had said, but he had hoped that Alex would open up to him and say it herself. Now he knew that that was unlikely.

"Diana?" she looked up quickly, "can I ask you something?"

She put down her pen and eyed him, almost suspiciously, "Yes, I suppose you can. What is it?"

He bit his lip for a moment, "What happened between Jack and Alex?"

She blinked, "Pardon?"

He circled around the chair to the other side of the desk, leaning on his elbows to talk to her, "You know, their history."

She seemed stiff, and for a moment he thought she wasn't going to say anything.

Diana turned back to her papers, but did not move them, staring blankly she said quietly, "She watched him grow up."

Fingering the wood carvings on the armrests of her chair she continued sadly, "They used to be so in love. Then Jack became regent along with her, and things started to change.

"He became power hungry, trying to take over the way his father had. But Alex fought tooth and nail to have things her way, which in turn I suppose was what was best for all of us. Now it would appear that she could care less about him, even to a point where hate seems to arise. She still cares though, you can see it in her eyes how much she still loves him."

Diana looked his way momentarily before turning back to her work wordlessly.

Later that morning, just before the sun rose, John knew that it all made sense. Now that the ball was only a week away, it was all too real for Alex that she would be leaving Jack. If she still loved him – well, that would make it all the harder on the poor girl.

As he lay his head down and closed his eyes, the last thing he saw before he drifted to sleep was the memory of the two of them sitting in the library in front of the fire.


	5. Spilt Blood

FIVE

The big event came upon them all too quickly. It seemed that before they knew it, they were dressing up in formal wear (black of course) and preparing to walk over to the ball room.

Alex was busy helping an older woman wrestle her hair back into a bun when Diana walked in. Seeing the situation, Diana laughed and went over to relieve Alex of her task.

Glancing over at her Diana stopped and frowned, "Alex, aren't you ready?"

Alex looked down at her usual everyday clothing and laughed nervously, "No, not just yet."

"Well go, get dressed," Diana poked her with the end of the brush, smiling.

Alex gave her thanks to Diana and hurried to her own room to change. Thankfully it was empty; Jack was downstairs taking a roll call.

She pulled out a simple, yet elegant, black gown from her closest and stepped into it quickly. It was traditional of the era, with only a deep scoped back that made it any different.

She put her hair back in a twist and grabbed her shoes, heading downstairs to the hoard of people crammed into the tight entryway.

Diana and the other woman came down behind her, and the three of them lingered on the stairway until it was time to go, not risking being suffocated below.

The air was crisp as it ever was during the winter months, but not unbearable. As they walked they saw that patches of snow still lingered on the pathway from a few nights before, and a stray dog eyed them from the corner as they passed into the building.

The room was as magnificent as ever, a vast ballroom almost as big as the house itself. For some reason this caused Alex's stomach to twist into knots. It made her nervous knowing how many other vampires would be arriving shortly. There would at least be a thousand, if not more. It reminded her how large the community was throughout the world, and it still amazed her that no human had ever found out about a gathering such as this.

Alex stood with Jack at the entryway and greeted each guest as they arrived. Some faces were familiar, and they exchanged friendly hugs and kisses. Some faces were new, and to a point this made Alex very uneasy, knowing that these souls were now trapped forever in this endless life.

Some faces from previous years did not arrive, but Alex tried to keep her mind off of it.

The last group of people to arrive where the ones Alex was most fond of. She smiled warmly as the Scotland clan filed past, but when she saw the regent she smiled broadly.

The man, who appeared to be around thirty-five, laughed upon seeing them.

"Jack! Alex! You two haven't aged a day!" he clasped Jack's hand and gave Alex a warm hug.

"It's a pleasure to see you again Ross," Jack said professionally.

"Same here my boy, same here." Ross looked over at Alex, "How have you been dear? Keeping Jack in his place are we?"

She smiled, "I try my best," she ignored the fact that Jack had frowned at the Scotsman's comment.

"Well, that may be harder after tonight now won't it?" he laughed again and escorted his lady out onto the dance floor.

Alex walked slowly around the perimeter of the room with Jack. Hundreds of dancing and laughing figures swept across the floor, but Alex herself was not in a festive mood.

"He seemed very sure you were going to get the position, didn't he?" she asked stiffly.

Jack shrugged, "Aren't we all? I've done an excellent job of keeping our own little division up; I think I can handle a little more."

She stopped him by stepping in front of him, "A _little_ more? Jack, this is the entire _world_ we're talking about, not a few extra people!" she took a breath, "And who's going to take your place at the house then? Not that you were much help anyway."

He ignored her last sentence, "I suppose you noticed that Donavan was back…" he trailed off.

She stared, "He—he's just a child! He can't help run an entire house!"

"Well, we'll just see about that now, won't we?" he smiled, but it was not a friendly one. It seemed to threaten her, challenging her to defy him.

As he started to pass her she quickly said, "I wonder if they'd still give you the position knowing you're responsible for the murder of several women in the area,"

He paused before turning on her, grabbing her wrist painfully hard, leaning forward he hissed, "If they did find out, it would be all the more tragic for you," stepping back a little he smiled again, same as before, "May I have this dance?"

She didn't respond as he led her out, her mind whirling with many thoughts: Donavan becoming a regent, Jack becoming so much more, his threat, his eyes…

She involuntarily shuddered and felt Jack's grip tighten on her hand. When she looked up the first thing she noticed were his eyes, those soulless black eyes that seemed to bore into her very being. Then her eyes trailed down to his hand, gripped tightly around her hand. She saw his wrist, and the ankh cross that was tattooed on it.

It was the universal symbol of the vampires. Upon becoming one you were imprinted with the mark somewhere on your body. The symbol itself was somewhat like a cross, given its name, but the top stemmed out to form a tear drop shaped oval.

Staring at it she felt very aware of her own mark, on her back, near her right shoulder blade. She knew everyone could see it, but she knew that they wouldn't take notice. It was a common sight after all, in the vampire world. But when Alex looked around the room the only two things she saw were the ankh crosses and gleaming white fangs.

As the next few dances ended, Alex was desperately looking for a way out. Each moment she spent with Jack hurt her more than she would have imagined. She thought about leaving him, and although he might not care so much, it pained her to think about it.

To Alex's surprise, a way out presented itself in the strangest fashion. As Jack turned her round she spotted John walking over. She didn't think anything of it until he touched Jack on the shoulder, causing him to stop and eye the man.

John smiled, "May I cut in?"

Alex stared at John and mouthed, 'what are you doing?'

Jack stiffened, but it was far beyond him to deny John a dance with a woman that was not entirely his.

Jack stepped away without a word, and Alex – who was still in a semi state of shock – was led off by John.

When they were out of earshot of Jack she hissed, "What are you doing? Are you _trying_ to make him suspicious?"

John smiled and leaned his head closer to hers, "He won't suspect."

She opened her mouth to argue but only sighed. Was there really a point in fighting over something that wouldn't matter after tonight?

The thought once again made her stomach clench.

John spoke again, oblivious to her sick worry, "I'm so sorry Alex."

She snapped her head up to look at him, confused. Why had he said that? What had he done to be sorry for? She doubted he was apologizing for making Jack angry, he sounded too remorseful for something as frivolous as that.

"For what?" she asked quietly.

"This," he answered simply.

To her great surprise John bent his head and kissed her softly. When she looked up at him again she was too flabbergasted to speak. Turning to the side she spotted Jack, eyeing them both with an evil look.

She inhaled sharply and pulled away from John. Avoiding his eye she muttered, "I— I have to go," she turned and walked quickly over to Jack, avoiding his gaze also.

"Are quite finished?" he asked coldly.

"Yes, yes I think so." She replied stiffly.

Standing up onto the stage Jack cleared his throat loudly, and when he did so the band stopped playing and everyone turned to him and Alex on the stage.

She could tell by his cold voice that he was more than furious about what had just happened. He would never believe that she had had no part in it at all. On the contrary, he might accuse her of being the one to instigate it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to introduce a highly esteemed man among our kind, Mr. Ross Howard,"

Alex applauded along with the rest as Ross took Jack's place on the stand. Slipping away into the crowd she could faintly hear his speech echoing through the grand room.

The time was drawing closer, the time when she would signal the others to start leaving. When Ross announced the new Eternus Rector, the others would start slipping out the door.

She was stopped halfway across the room by none other than Donavan. Startled, she turned to see him gently gripping her arm. She was gently pulled over to stand beside him and listen to Ross's speech come to an end.

"It gives me great joy to announce your new Eternus Rector: Jack Dawson!"

To Alex's great surprise, the applause that followed tripled that of Ross's. She had had no idea that Jack was this popular among the others of their kind. Actually, she never even knew that he had ever spoken to any of these people.

Jack approached the stand just as she thought he would, shoulders back, a strut in his step. He had known he would get the position, of course he would. Because everyone loved Jack, now didn't they.

_If they only knew._

If they only knew that their new Eternus Rector was a murderer…

She paused in her own thought. Now that it occurred to her, she supposed that 90 percent of the people in this room were murderers in their own way. Her own house was the only she knew of that took blood from the already deceased.

But to know that their new leader was behind the frantic and terrified citizens of London, to know that he was driving police mad trying to find him—that would make a mark on his reputation.

A half hour later Alex was back on the dance floor, being held more tightly by Jack than ever before. She believed that she would have a bruise forming after he let go. Once a young man Alex had never seen before approached them, obviously coming to cut in. Jack politely but firmly turned Alex away from the hopeful suitor, and turned his eyes once again back to hers.

Her mind reeled franticly, wondering how she was supposed to slip away now. Out of the corner of her eye she saw John give her the signal that everyone else had left. She knew that

_(this isn't going to work)_

what they had planned for so long was really happening now, that this was it.

Shaking, she fell into Jack's arms without warning, causing him to step back in surprise. Several people around them stopped and whispered to each other as they watched her.

Jack grabbed her arm and supported her, "Alex? Alex are you alright?"

Groggily, she looked up at him, "I—I don't feel so well—" she tried to stand and made great show of not being able to do it.

"We should get you back," he said seriously.

She shook her head, "No, no you have to stay here. You're the host after all."

"I'll take her,"

Both of them turned their heads and saw John standing beside them, a concerned look on his face.

"I'm perfectly capable of—" Jack started.

"Jack please, you need to stay. I'll go with John," she said weakly.

Jack hesitated, and she could see his muscles tense. Her stomach flopped as she thought he would come to realize how bad at acting they both were.

He didn't relax his posture as he replied coldly, "Fine, take her back to the house John. Make sure she lies down."

He handed her off to John and walked quickly away. Alex felt her heart reach out to Jack, and for the last time she wished to tell him how much she really cared.

John led her through the group of people, supporting her with his arm. She tried her best to appear weak and lifeless, but it was hard when her mind was franticly constructing terrible scenarios in which their plan fell to pieces in a matter of minutes.

People she didn't know eyed her curiously and whispered among themselves as she passed. It made her terribly aware of herself, and she mentally cursed them. Who were they to cast judgment upon her? They who were newborns in this world. They were the ones who embraced this life, and considered it an honor above all. They would soon come to learn what it was really like to live the rest of eternity in the dark.

Halfway down the block the rest of the party waited for them, relieved to see that Alex and John had made it out without any trouble. Together they made their way down the street in silence, all afraid that if they spoke they would be found out.

Alex in particular kept silent, but not for the same reason. It was terribly awkward, having to walk with John. She thought back on what had happened at the gala and tried to make sense of it. It had come to her out of nowhere, and she wasn't sure what to make of it. As far as she knew, there had never been any signs that John had harbored any feelings for her. After all, she had only known him for the past ten years.

But her thoughts were broken by John's hand on her arm. She felt her muscles tense immediately at his touch. She raised her head and saw that he was leading her up the stairs to the front door. She had become so lost in her own thoughts that she had become oblivious to the rest of the world.

* * *

After the door was safely closed the others rushed to their respective rooms to gather their things. They couldn't waste any time dawdling about the house, for there was a chance any other could arrive to check on Alex or one of the other residents.

Alex mechanically packed her things without much thought, each item a new memory of her life here. From her clothing to her journal she felt overwhelmed with emotions.

There was one item she had neglected to pack, and she hesitated to do so. Kneeling in front of the small safe that she had pulled out from behind the dresser, she turned the combination slowly.

Inside there were few things, but of them she wanted only one. She plucked from the bottom a necklace, one with a tear drop shaped diamond at the end. Clasping it around her neck she tried to ignore the other items: the jagged ended knife that Jack prized, his most valuable papers, and a stack of money bounded in twine.

She paused, and then collected half of the stack. She didn't know how much money the others were bringing, but it was better to have more than less.

A sound from downstairs caused her to turn her head, eyes narrowing suspiciously. The sound continued, and she could tell that it was footsteps, belonging to at least four or five people.

She would have assumed it to be one of the other residents, or someone from the gala, but it was they way they moved about the house floor that made her think otherwise. They were trying to remain silent, and in the process only became louder and more noticeable.

Not taking her eyes off the door, Alex slowly wrapped her hand around the handle of Jack's knife. She made her way to the door softly; unlike the intruders she knew how to keep quiet.

Looking down the hall towards the stairs she saw nothing, and turned to look the other way.

She was grabbed from behind quickly and violently. A hand wrapped around her mouth and prevented her from crying out. She struggled to cut her captor, but couldn't get at them.

There was more than one of them; they must have been hiding in one of the neighboring rooms when she had looked for them.

The one holding her bent down and whispered in her ear, "Don't make a sound, or I'll kill every one of you," it was a man who spoke to her. She guessed that they were likely all men—human men.

She tensed, trying to find a loophole out of his request. As she was lead down the hall she spotted a door ajar, with a bag placed outside.

She cocked her wrist and flung the knife to the ground, just outside the door. The men found nothing suspicious in this action, taking it as a sign that she surrendered.

John jumped a little as the knife landed in his doorway. Curious, he walked over and pulled it from the wooden plank, where it had become lodged.

He did not recognize the blade, and went into the hallway, meaning to find the owner. But as he bent his head out of the door pane he was alarmed to see Alex being led around the corner by three strange men. In the second before she turned the corner their eyes met, and he knew something wasn't right. They had been wild and terrified, more likely for the others and not herself.

The others on the floor were unaware of what was going on, and John didn't plan on telling them. They were safest where they were at the moment. Once the vagrants had been taken care of he would alert the others to leave.

He followed silently but quickly down the hall, pausing at the corner to glance around it. They were stopped atop the staircase, two of the men were holding Alex's arms while another who stood in front of her had his hand over her mouth.

All three were of middle age, probably around thirty-five to forty. The one standing in front of Alex had long, stringy gray hair, and each was wearing a black trench coat.

"If you scream, I _will_ kill you, do you understand?" the gray haired man asked sharply. Alex nodded her agreement and the man let go of her mouth.

She glared up at him, "Who are you and what do you want?" she demanded as softly as she could manage.

The man made no move to answer her question, but instead asked his own, "Are you Alexandra Kent?"

She froze; the name was almost alien to her. She hadn't been called that in over a hundred years, and she tried to figure out how they knew it.

"What do you want?" she asked again.

Once more he ignored her, "You know, your grandfather was extremely worried when you didn't return,"

She eyed him suspiciously, not ready to jump into anything, "What are you talking about?"

He chuckled briefly, "Surely you don't think he would have reported you missing? After all, he did care about you _so_ much," he added almost sarcastically, "Who would have thought that we'd find you right here in London—a hundred years later."

She didn't respond and he took this as a cue to continue his monologue, "I took the liberty of picking up your file shortly after the first murder in the Jack the Ripper serial killing. Can you imagine my surprise when I discover that the handwriting on a letter you had written was an exact match to the Jack the Ripper letters?"

Her muscles tensed and the men holding her arms picked up on it and gave the gray haired man two sinister smiles. The gray haired man – who she assumed was the leader of this little excursion – grinned smugly at her.

"Yes—I know what you are, Alex," he ran a finger down her bare arm and she tried to pull away. He frowned and gripped it tightly, pulling her closer to his face, "I know there are more in this house, and let me assure you: they will be taken care of."

She sighed, "Yes, I suppose you will. Rotten luck, you coming on the one night I insist we all be here,"

He smiled, "So this is all of you, is it?"

"Sadly," she replied. If she was going to die, the least she could do is make sure the other residents wouldn't be harmed by her mistake.

"Do you know what's going to happen next?" he asked as he pulled out a long, jagged knife, silver most likely.

"Yes," she replied without feeling. It was almost as if she had wanted this all along, yet not at the cost of so many other lives.

When John saw the knife he reacted immediately, even if it wasn't the wisest of choices.

"Alex!"

All turned to see John starting toward them.

"John, stop!" Alex cried out, only to have her mouth clamped shut again.

The gray haired man grinned, "We meet again," as John lunged for him he was tossed to the side as if he weighed but an ounce.

The man who held her became distracted by the fight, and she took this chance to fight back herself.

She opened her mouth slightly and nipped the hand of her captor. He screamed in fright (possibly afraid that he would become a vampire from even such a small scratch).

When he let go of her she kicked out a leg and sent him and the other man tumbling down the stairs. But as they fell one grabbed her leg and pulled her down also.

She grabbed the banister and held on tightly as the man fought to drag her down. Above her John was fighting with the older man, she could hear but not see, and she prayed that John was winning.

Down the other hallway she heard several screams and her stomach clenched. Of course, there must have been a dozen or so men that entered the house. They must have found the others—

She felt sick as she heard thuds, sounds that could only come from a fallen body.

In her anger she kicked away the man who held her down and rushed up the stairs to John's aid. She spotted the knife, which John must have dropped in the struggle, and lunged for it, only to be beaten there by another man in a coat. He sliced at her and she recoiled quickly. When he stumbled she twisted his arm and took possession of the weapon, tossing him over the railing to the floor below.

She looked to her right and saw John being pinned down by three men. From behind she was grabbed again and her hands pulled sharply behind her. She tried to struggle but only found her arm being singed by the silver knife the man held.

She screamed involuntarily from the pain and felt her legs collapse beneath her.

John turned his head and saw what was happening and fought to free himself.

"You liars! You promised she wouldn't be hurt, you _swore!_"

Alex tilted her head and listened, confused. The man in the white coat laughed again, the hollow sound seemed alien in the current situation.

The man noted her look and the corners of his mouth turned up in a sinister smile. Looking from both captives he spoke, "I suppose she has no idea how we found her, right Michael?"

"If you say so boss," the man holding John responded hollowly.

"I can only imagine you came upon me out of pure luck, which I'm surprised you possess in any matter at all."

He ignored her comment, "Your friend John here traded information of your location, in exchange for the safe keeping of his – _previous_ wife and son."

John fought against his restrainer, "You _swore_ you wouldn't hurt her! You monsters!" he turned to Alex, eyes wild with panic, "He said they wanted to talk, you have to believe me!"

Alex was stunned, not sure what was happening. If John had remained silent she would have thought nothing of the man's explanation. But since he had spoken out in his defense, it only proved his guilt.

"Ah, that I did. But you see young man, you never said anything about hurting the others."

He jumped again in an attempt to attack the older man, who still remained nameless in Alex's mind.

Alex's eyes met with John's, and for a brief moment she hoped to find a lie buried beneath his gaze. She wanted what they said to be a lie, she wanted so desperately for it to be some sort of elaborate scheme. She wished as each second went by that Jack and the others would burst through the door and rescue them from this fate, one that would otherwise not be escaped.

"Alex—" he choked out, "I'm sorry,"

For a moment time seemed to stand still. In the downstairs corridor the clock chimed the three o'clock hour. The ominous sound echoed through the now quiet house. The only living souls stood now on the second floor landing, two held capture by the others. But there two were no longer fighting on the same side. In those few words they had become enemies, one who betrayed, and the other who had been the object of said act.

Both cloaked men seemed to take a sense of accomplishment from the silence. Not only did they assume they had captured Jack the Ripper, but they had succeeded in ridding London of its vampire population, not counting the two who would soon face their own demise.

Mouth dry and fists clenched, Alex was rendered motionless at the discovery that one of her own – a brother – had sold her to these men. He had called them monsters, but it seemed to her that the real monster was held on the floor before her.

"I can't believe it," she said without a real feeling, "All this time, you were just—waiting to hand me over."

"Alex, no—" he started to protest.

"It's too late for that now," she replied solemnly, "you are now responsible for the death's of more than twenty-five people tonight, including our own," she turned her head to look at the man.

He could see that she understood, and for a moment his guard was let down. But he quickly regained it. Although he wasn't used to having victims so readily accept their fate, it was a convenience nonetheless.

"Congratulations," she whispered to the man as he pushed her back against the hall wall.

"For what?" he asked, almost confused.

"You finally found us. After all these years, you finally found us all." If she was going to die, she would make sure that the rest of her "family" would not have to bear the burden of their loose ends. She needed to rid the house of these vermin.

"I'm glad you feel that way," he turned to his henchman, then back to her, "Anything else you'd like to say to the traitor?"

"No," was her simple reply.

He shrugged, "Very well then." He nodded to the other man (whom he had called Michael).

The man pulled out a long stake – silver no less – and thrust it through John's heart.

She turned her head at the last minute and listened as his dieing voice carried out from his lips. When it had become silent she was surprised to find that tears were forming in her eyes.

_I won't cry over a traitor._ She told herself, but it was hard to prevent it. Whether or not she wanted to acknowledge what he had done, they had been friends, even if only in falsehood.

"I regret nothing," her final words left her mouth just as the stake entered her chest.

The world slowly faded to black, colors blurring into one seamless patch of darkness. Time was nonexistent now, with seconds feeling like hours, and the other way around. Life seemed all the more peaceful now.

The last piece of the puzzle lay in plain sight of any who dared pass. If found it would reveal once and for all the true nature of this act.

If one only cared to look.


End file.
